


Lonely Souls

by crazyparakiss



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:38:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyparakiss/pseuds/crazyparakiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was work, there was food, and there was an empty apartment waiting for him when he clocked out each evening. Today was different. He wanted to stay at the tower longer, listen to Fury give him an order—any order, he’d volunteer for trash duty if that’s what it took. Fury seemed to guess as much—he had that look in his eye, the one that was as close to pity as Fury ever got and Steve didn’t want to see the expression.</p>
<p> “Go home, Steve. Enjoy the holiday.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [curiouslyfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouslyfic/gifts).



> For my beloved Curi! She inspires me in all things, always :D

Winter fell on Brooklyn with a chill that seeped past his bones, down into his soul. For Steve Rogers December brought more than snow and cold—it brought the realization that he was alone in the world during what used to be the happiest time of year for him.

 

 Now, he found it depressing. There was work, there was food, and there was an empty apartment waiting for him when he clocked out each evening. Today was different. He wanted to stay at the tower longer, listen to Fury give him an order—any order, he’d volunteer for trash duty if that’s what it took. Fury seemed to guess as much—he had that look in his eye, the one that was as close to pity as Fury ever got and Steve didn’t want to see the expression.

 

 “Go home, Steve. Enjoy the holiday.”

 

  _Yeah, right._

 

The lock slid open, echoing down the empty hall. Most of the tenants were out of the building, holiday cheer had followed them to JFK to soar off into the night—off to find warmth and comfort in those people they held dear. It was comforting, in a way, because it meant that life, in the aftermath of war, always continued on. Loki’s poisonous touch had not stopped hope, love, or family. Humanity was the reason Steve found the will to carry on.

 

 As the door slid open Steve noticed a change, something subtle but distinct—floral and feminine. He felt the corners of his mouth quirk as he entered the darkened space of the hall. Of course she’d been trained to know better, and so the slip seemed a calculated mistake.

 

 “Natasha,” he said, a loud murmur in the stillness.

 

 Her voice was a warm breath against the back of his neck, her hands a strong hold on his broad shoulders. “Cap, I was hoping to surprise you.”

 

 He knew better, but played along as she pulled him by the arm to his living area. The shades were drawn, blocking out the light from the city and in the center of the room a small, white metal tree acted as a candle holder for the waxy sticks burning brightly in the darkness. The light flickered over a set of cheap cups and a cardboard carton of eggnog.

 

The drink pressed into his hand after Natasha shoved him against a fuzzy blanket lacked alcohol and Steve felt affection bloom in his gaze as he stared into her bright eyes. It was a little detail, one that was probably overlooked by many, but she understood. He didn’t drink because drinking couldn’t dull pain for him, alcohol ineffective and useless to his unique physiology. With one simple act of observation she made him putty in her hands and Steve didn’t have the will to force her away when she crawled into his lap. Graceful and quick as she slid against his body—she felt frail and tiny against him, but Steve knew better. Natasha had taken on Chitauri and Steve had never doubted that she could fight the aliens alongside the best of them.

 

“Nat-,” she cut him off with a kiss. It was a demanding press of soft lips that were parted, swallowing her name as she wrapped her strong arms around his neck and wove her fingers into his short hair.

 

“Don’t stop me, Cap, please.” Wet lips grazed his while her words brushed warm air over his. He could taste her breath—it was sweet like the eggnog she’d pressed into his hand. The drink which was now spilled across the wooden floor. Steve found he couldn’t care. Not when her eyes were open and desperate and he found himself less lonely.

 

“We-,” she cut him off once again. A hand ripped his tucked in shirt out from his pants and worked its way up his bare stomach, momentarily shocking him with cold touch. He groaned when her nails raked down his chest.

 

“Don’t tell me we can’t, Cap.” She bit his neck before she kissed her way up to his ear. A tickle of pain shot out from the lobe and tingled across his senses pleasantly. It’d been forever since he’d felt intimate and never before had he been with a woman as bold and brash as Natasha. She was a wild breed, rare here and rarer yet during his era, the rarity enough to blind him with want. “Don’t say we can’t. It might not be honest but it’ll be real, Steve.”

 

And how can he say “no” to that?

 

 

 

 

In the morning Steve woke to the feel of a warm body at his side and a fuzzy blanket at his back. Natasha’s eyes were on his face when he turned to look at her and Steve swallowed, suddenly nervous.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Her smile was a minute tilt at the corners of her mouth and her eyes were soft with a fondness people rarely found in her gaze. “Would you like breakfast?”

 

“What?” Of all the things he expected (really what _had_ he expected) that wasn’t one of them.

 

“Breakfast-it’s good to eat after a long workout.” He shouldn’t be the one blushing, should he? “Come on, Cap, my treat. Consider it my Christmas gift.”

 

“Is anything even open on Christmas?” He wondered, curiously.

 

“There’s always a lonely soul in need of a cup of Joe. Fortunately, I’m one of those lonely souls so I know a few places.”

 

It was probably the most she’d ever said to him during a conversation, and definitely the most she’d ever revealed about herself. He felt that this was for his benefit and he appreciated it, and the affection he felt for her the night before swelled once more.

 

When they were dressed she reached out a hand and for once Steve didn’t hesitate. It was a bit cool and dry; a hand that knew the same things his hands knew: war and destruction, but now-together-he thought perhaps they could learn to find peace.

 


End file.
